Faith
by AnberlinLove
Summary: Sam scratches at the wall, leaving him in a child like state. Dean must learn to cope with this new Sam while coming to terms with his feeling for Castiel. Dean/Cas. Slash.
1. Prologue

**I am quite aware of the fact Mix & Match seems to be on hiatus. Its not, I'm working on the chapter as you read this. As you read this, I want you to know that I wrote it as a one-shot and I might leave it as so. Still, if enough readers feel as if it should be continued, then I will turn it into a full story. I hope you enjoy this. I poured my heart and soul into it. Also, if it turns into a story, it will most likely be M. For now, it remains at a T. For all intents and purposes. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.**

**Faith **

Dean could remember the time Sammy was barely ten, playing in the backyard of a dusty trailer they were renting. Dean himself was fourteen, buzz-cut haired, smart mouthed, and quick-witted. He was idly cleaning a shotgun strewn across his lap, listening to his brother's soft footsteps on the dirt covered ground. Sam had found a beaten up soccer ball in one of the trailer's cobwebbed corners and insisted on going outside to kick it around. Dean didn't want to at all, he had better things to do; like clean this gun.

"_Dean, look!" Sammy's small playful voice rang out._

"_Yep, I see Sammy."_

"_No you don't!"_

Sam had frowned at his brother, turning his back and kicking the ball as hard as he could. It sailed into a bush, about six or seven feet from where he was standing. Dean glared a hole in the back of his head so hot that Sam turned slowly to face his brother.

"_Sam. Go get it."_

"_No!"_

"_Sam. Cut the shit and get the ball. Then we're going inside."_

Sam had gotten the ball. Sam had also ended up stepping on a few rusted nails that broke through the thin soles of his shoes. Dean can still remember the soft cries of his baby brother as he pulled the thin nails out, clenching his eyes at the memory of Sam's flesh torn and bloody.

Dean Winchester had a habit of forcing his brother to do things. And as much as he protected the fragile boy, he also caused him pain as well. Still, he was always there to pick up the pieces. Always. Only this time, he couldn't.

He never knew a soul could bleed this much.

Sam lay on the cold slab of a table in the panic room, his lithe body shaking and convulsing. Whimpers and moans of unintelligible words poured out of his mouth, his nails scratching at his head. Dean stands frozen in the doorway, watching his gargantuan brother morph into that ten year old boy. Blood leaked from Sam's nose, making a puddle on the table beneath him. His eyes fixed on Dean's; anger, betrayal, pain and emptiness filling them.

"Sammy…" Dean breathed, something hard catching in his throat, "Sammy, I'm so sorry…"

Sam whined like a small child, clenching his teeth as he beat on the table with closed fists. His mouth opened to reply only to twist into a large chasm as he screamed helplessly. Dean choked on a sob, leaning against the doorway.

"Dean…" Cas whispered from behind him.

"Put him to sleep Cas," he whispered back through tears, "Just put him to rest."

Cas lowered his eyes to the ground, "I wish I could."

Dean didn't bother to reply, he just walked nimbly over to Sam's side, wrapping his fingers into the man's sweat soaked locks. Sam's eyes softened only a bit, maybe relieved by the familiar touch. The elder Winchester stroked his baby brother's hair softly, letting the moment be a chick flick one because goddammit Sammy deserved that much.

"Sam, I'll fix this," he lowered himself to be eye to eye with him, "I promise, soon you won't have to be in pain anymore."

Sam muttered something unrecognizable back, eyes shut tightly. Dean brought his ear close to Sam's mouth.

"What'd you say, Sammy?"

"Kill…me…." the young man forced out, his eyes opening to reveal broken capillaries.

Dean grew cold, backing away, "No…"

"Please," he whined painfully, "Please Dean… Please make it go away…"

"Cas," Dean barked, "Do something."

"I can't," the angel replied brokenheartedly, "You know I would have by now."

"Why can't you?" the man advanced on him.

"His soul," Cas whispered softly, "is too shattered for me to even let him rest. I couldn't touch him."

"Bullshit!" Dean yelled, kicking a nearby table over, "Fucking bullshit! Do something you dick!"

"I can't!"

Dean opened his mouth to reply only to close it as he noticed the silence in the room. He hurried to Sam's side to find the man slack on the table.

"Sam!" Dean began to smack his cheek, "Sammy!"

"Shh Dean," Cas grabbed his hand, "He is asleep."

"How do you know?"

"His chest."

The Winchester looked down to see the slight rise and fall of Sam's chest. He nodded dumbly, backing away from the man.

"Get some sleep Dean," Cas looked him over worriedly, "You need it."

"How can I…?" Dean asked almost inaudibly.

His eyes met Cas' and Cas understood everything in perfect clarity. How could Dean force Sam into swallowing that disgusting soul? How could he sleep when he'd committed the most horrible sin he could fathom? How could he rest while his brother was in agony?

"Because if you aren't well, you won't be able to help Sam."

"Yeah, you're right. Night Cas," he answered hoarsely, turning to make his way upstairs, "But, uh, just wake me up when he comes to?"

"I will."

"Thanks."

With a short exchange of uncomfortable glances, Dean continued his way upstairs. He didn't bother to acknowledge Bobby who sat in the kitchen eyeing him warily. His thoughts remained on the young man passed out in the panic room. Sam Winchester. His Sammy. He gripped the banister of the second flight of stairs tightly, resting his head on the wall.

"_Dean, it hurts," whimpered the messy headed child._

"_I know Sammy, I know. Just hold still alright?" a young Dean looked frazzled as he pulling a long nail out of his baby brother's foot._

_The bathroom floor was cold beneath them, linoleum that cracked at the corners and bore dark stains. Dean cursed the fact that they were nowhere sanitary and prayed his brother wouldn't catch an infection. The smaller boy had tears dried on his chubby cheeks, eyes puffed and red. He had one hand curled against his chest while the other held onto his brother's shoulder. _

"_Dean, will Dad be mad?" he whispered fearfully, "Will he be mad at me for getting hurt?"_

_Dean didn't bother to answer, fearing it more than the boy._

John Winchester would kill Dean. If their father was still alive, Sam would be dead. The moment he had realized his son was soulless, he would put a bullet to his head. Maybe the real Sam would have wanted that. Anything but the agony he was facing right now, even in his sleep.

Dean settled into the warm bed in the guest room, staring at the wall passively. Rubbing a hand absentmindedly down his face, he dropped onto his back. He didn't bother with the covers; neither did he bother to remove his shoes.

o.o

Castiel had brought in a fresh blanket from the closet on the top floor. He draped it over the younger Winchester, pushing back the sweaty locks of brown hair that were stuck to his forehead. With a sigh, he pushed his grace into his fingertips, washing away any dirt and sweat from the boy. _It's the least I could do…_

"I am very sorry Sam," he breathed deeply, "I wish you would not have to endure this torture."

Sam remained unmoving, the rise and fall of his chest barely perceptible. Castiel sat on the seat beside the slab, resting his hands on his knees as he stared off.

"I am…angry with Dean," a short silence, "No. Not angry. Disappointed."

Castiel remembered the moment he felt the earth shift. The angel had been linked to the Winchesters ever since he made the choice to fight by their side. Even if his bond with Dean was more profound, he could still sense Sam. And the moment Sam's battered, ugly soul was forced down his throat…he felt it. Cas looked back at the boy he once fought by, he stared at the dark bruises forming around his eyes. Sam's cheeks were sallow, his skin pallid.

"I thought he would do right by you. I was wrong. I guess he's more selfish than I realized."

0.0

Dean was in a light layer of sleep, he tried to concentrate on nothing but the bed beneath him. The soft cotton sheets caressed his cheek, so different from his stubble. He forgot Sammy, forgot Heaven & Hell, just slept. Castiel flew into the guest room, looking down at Dean. Everything that was said with Sam was exactly how he felt but of course he could never say that to the man's face. Not with how peaceful he looked now. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently swiped a finger down his cheek.

"Hmm…" Dean murmured, shifting slightly, "He wake up, Cas?"

The angel smiled slightly, "No. Peacefully asleep."

"Mmhmm great, wake me up," yawn, "In an hour…"

"If that is what you wish."

Dean was quiet for a moment before he shifted under Castiel's burning gaze. He opened an eye to gaze back at the angel. With a scoff, he moved onto his back.

"What's up Cas?" he swiped a hand down his face as per usual, trying to wake himself up.

Castiel looked away, "Nothing. I wanted to assure you were alright."

"I'm great Cas."

The angel nodded, not convinced at the least. He honestly knew the bond he and Dean shared had little to do with the latter's rescue. Saving Dean Winchester was an order. Nothing _real _between them had much to do with orders. He believed in Dean's beauty due to his treatment of others. His love for his brother. His adoration of Ben and Lisa. The smile he gives the scared. The rest he gives the tired. The lives he gives breath. In only a short thirty years, Dean had managed to touch more lives than those at the age of ninety. And his face showed it all.

Many times, even too often, he looked old. He looked wise; worldly. Castiel would do anything for him to obtain a bright face. Dean never looked tired while he joked with his brother or spent late nights in Bobby's house by the fire. He was relaxed as his belly filled with beer and cheap restaurant food.

He was most beautiful when he laughed.

"Cas?" Dean questioned lightly, "What's going on in your head?"

The angel shook his head, "Thinking. I'll leave you to your rest now."

As he begun to stand, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist.

"I wasn't sleeping very well in the first place. So, stay."

Cas let a small smile creep on his lips, "Millennia older than you and yet you still boss me around."

Dean laughed a bit in return, easing back into bed, "Well, humor me."

"I always do, Dean."

They sat in silence. Dean staring off into the dark room as Castiel pretended not to stare at Dean himself. The angel shrugged out of his trench coat, tossing it to the side. Dean looked at him in surprise and question which Castiel answered with smile.

"I'm just getting comfortable, is the way you'd put it Dean."

"Right. Hey, Cas… Sammy, is he…?"

"Going to be okay? I have no idea Dean."

Dean settled deeper into his sheets in almost defeat, staring back off into the darkness. Castiel felt a sense of guilt at the fact that he had nothing to offer Dean and let his hand wander to his charge's shoulder. The hunter gazed at him questioningly in return.

"We'll figure something out," he said softly, "We always do."

The Winchester laughed harshly, "Yeah, we do. Then we fuck everything up again."

"Must you use crude language?"

Dean sighed, "Sorry."

Castiel tried not to startle at the apology, nodding in response. He tried to ignore the growing need pulling at his stomach to comfort Dean in any way.

"Cas..do you get scared?"

"What do you mean?"

"Having to fight over heaven with Raphael, the missing weapons…all of it. Does it ever scare you?"

Honestly, Castiel didn't know how to respond. Fear is a very human emotion. One, he shouldn't feel. Two, he always seemed to feel. Three, he knew he should admit. Still, sitting here next to a man that's lost damn near everything, it's hard to compare your own problems. Castiel looked down at his hands, deciding to gaze there as he nodded. He didn't know what he'd face if he looked into Dean's eyes at the moment. He didn't want to know.

Dean didn't bother to answer, an unspoken 'Me too' hanging in the air between them. He pulled himself up to get closer to the angel, letting his head dip to lay a small kiss on his shoulder. The other man jumped, startled by the intimate gesture.

"What was that?" he asked in his gravelly voice.

"It was a kiss, Cas," Dean replied calmly, laying another on his neck, "So was that."

"Yes," an uncomfortable shift, "But why are you doing it?"

There was no hesitation, "Because I'm scared too, Cas."

The angel nodded, "And this kissing….is sort of like a dog's licking?"

Dean paused, holding back a bark of laughter, "What are you trying to say?"

Castiel turned serious and faced the hunter, "When a dog is anxious, he licks. Your kissing is relieving your anxiety?"

"I guess you could say that," he smiled and moved closer, "You don't mind do you?"

His blue eyes became soft, "I'd do anything to relieve your anxiety, Dean."

There was a moment's silence as Dean began to pull off his black t-shirt. Castiel never let his eyes leave the beautiful man before him, instead opting to slowly unbutton his shirt. It isn't like he hadn't seen this coming. Poor Dean had been in distress for so long, it was only a matter of time until he needed another's reassurance. Reassurance in his humanity and importance. So, maybe he was making it sound like a charity case but…

He wanted this more than he cared to admit…

Dean wordlessly pushed the smaller man into the plush bed beneath them, letting his lips trail down his neck. Castiel made no sound, opting to rub at Dean's shoulders' awkwardly. It isn't like he knew what the hell he was doing. He never had the opportunity to touch someone like this.

"Cas…" Dean breathed into the soft mess of hair belonging to the angel, "Relax, buddy. It's just me."

The man below him sighed, nudging his nose against Dean's jaw, "This will change everything. Are you aware of that?"

Dean backed away suddenly, looking down at him, "I don't think it changes anything. What do you expect out of it?"

Castiel's eyes widened a bit in surprise, "Dean."

As if catching himself, a breath caught in his throat, "Forget it, Cas. I'm going out."

"Dean, wait," but the younger man was already pulling his shirt back on hurriedly and reaching for his worn leather jacket.

"This was a mistake. I'm sorry," he apologized for the second time this night.

Castiel fought back the sting of his words and watched as the Winchester paused at the entrance of the room.

"You won't bring this up again…will you?" came the barely audible question.

"I…" he looked down at his naked stomach, "No, Dean. Of course not."

And with that answer, Dean stalked off into the night.


	2. Chapter 1

**Alright. I have decided to make Faith into a full blown story. Please be aware that the rating is now changed to _M_ and the first part of this story is the prologue. This here is chapter one. Please enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Vultures.**

**Chapter 1**: Landing in a Cuckoo's Nest

A week had passed and yet all Sam did was stare at the wall. He had been moved from the bunker to one of the bedrooms, its walls a calming blue. Castiel would come in daily to read him an excerpt from a book he'd found in Sam's belongings, at times Dean would sit in the rocking chair in the corner to listen along. Bobby fixed him a meal three times a day and made sure it went where it belonged. Basically, he was treated as a long term care resident.

Dean would spend hours by his bedside as Sam lay quietly, talking idly and messing with his hair now and then. Sam would sometimes reply with a lopsided smile or even with a tiny grunt. Small interactions like that kept Dean hoping. Maybe Sam will grow out of it, like a phase. Except for the fact that Sam had never gone through a phase where he couldn't talk, or touch water without screaming. He wouldn't eat anything unless Dean fed him or at least stayed with him. All in all, it was like entering a loony bin once you walked into the room. Only more frightening.

"Dean," Castiel said softly at the doorway, eyeing the tall man strewn across the bed.

"Yeah," Dean didn't look away from his brother, "What is it?"

A small but pleased grunt came from the bed followed by an outstretched hand toward Castiel. Dean sighed, gently taking Sam's hand to put it back down on the bed. There was that also. Cas had explained it to him the first time it occurred.

"_Why does he do that, Cas?"_

"_I'm an angel Dean… Those with…disabilities can sometimes see past what the usual eye can see…"_

"_He's not disabled."_

"_Dean."_

"_He's not."_

Sam whined, looking at Dean pleadingly. Castiel walked slowly towards the bed, giving Dean time to object before kneeling before the bed and placing his hand over Sam's. The younger Winchester smiled at the angel, blushing slightly across the cheeks.

"Good morning Samuel," Castiel spoke softly, looking the man in the eyes, "I have to speak with your brother for a moment. It won't take long though. I promise."

"Hmm," Sam responded with a nod but then gripped his hand and pulled it to the book on the nightstand.

"Right," he smiled, "And later in the afternoon I will read some more for you."

"_He can read it himself Cas, stop treating him like a senile grandfather."_

"_He enjoys it, Dean. You should be satisfied with that much."_

"_What are you trying to say?"_

"_You know exactly what I mean."_

It was the day he realized that everyone blamed him.

"We'll be back, Sammy," Dean spoke gruffly, standing to walk into the hallway.

Castiel followed suit, closing the door behind him, "Dean."

"Cas."

"Bobby just left on a hunt," he spoke quietly, "Some demon possession in Ottawa."

Dean nodded, "Alright, you can stay here with Sam?"

"No, we'll both be staying. Bobby said he can handle this all on his own."

"You sure?"

"He didn't seem too worried."

Dean nodded again at Castiel's words, not knowing quite what else to do. Two days prior, Castiel had let his thoughts be known to the Winchester. Honestly, he didn't know how to handle that. He didn't know how to handle any of it. What happened a week ago, what happened to Sam….

"I'll be in heaven," Castiel looked away, "Call if you need anything. I will be back for Sam's reading."

"Cas," Dean's breathe caught in his throat, "You don't have to come back so soon, you know? I mean, I can read to Sammy myself. Just take a break. Go to Aruba or something."

Castiel snorted softly, "Right, and leave you here to make another problem. I don't think so."

"Cas…"

"I'll see you later, Dean."

"_I want him to be happy."_

"_Great job at that."_

"_Screw you Cas. You don't know anything."_

"_I know that this is your fault. Now let me do what I have to do to clean up your mess. Again."_

"_You know what? Fuck you, you junkless son of a bitch. Get away from my brother."_

"_Hush your mouth Dean, you're upsetting him."_

Dean stared out at the empty space of the hallway for a short moment before he heard Sam's mumbling begin again. He opened the door to the room and stepped inside, flashing a bright smile.

"Hey there," he rubbed his hands together and collapsed into his seat, "It's just you and me for awhile buddy."

Sam looked forlornly at the book on his nightstand in response. The elder brother's smile faltered and he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Cas will be back to read for you. He promised, remember?"

The smile he was rewarded told him everything.

The moon shone bright through the window, falling on Dean's bed. He lay on his back, listening to the snoring of his baby brother penetrating the thin walls. Dinner had been overcooked pasta with old parmesan cheese and Dean only prayed that Bobby never found out. Castiel had looked at the meal with indifference, coming to the conclusion that it was better than what the boys typically ate.

"Cas…" Dean whispered, sitting up in bed, "Cas?"

A shuffle of wings, "How did you know I was lurking around?"

"How do I always know?"

A soft smile graced his thin lips, "Just as I always know where you are."

Dean stood to meet the angel by the door, "Cas, I want to talk."

"What about?"

"Everything," he took a breath and sat back on the bed, "I just…"

"Need a 'chick-flick moment'?"

"Shut up."

Cas sat beside the hunter, taking off his trench coat and suit jacket to roll up his sleeves. Dean smiled at this, it meant the angel would stay. He breathed in momentarily to get the smell of the man beside him. It was much like when the leaves change color and fall from the trees in autumn. It was an earthy, nurturing smell that immediately brought comfort to your mind. Especially for Dean.

"You're not anxious again…are you?" Castiel pondered with a smirk.

A breath caught in the hunter's throat, "Not funny Cas."

"I wasn't trying to be funny. I was just wondering."

For a moment, Castiel soaked it all up. The slight blush adorning Dean's cheeks, the smell of his aftershave hanging in the air although he still had stubble… He calmed in this human's beautiful warmth for just a moment.

"What is it that you want from me?" he shifted closer, hopefully imperceptibly.

Oh but Dean noticed the shift in body heat as his arm brushed Cas', "Understanding."

"Of?"

"What I did and why I did it."

Castiel abruptly stood, "Dean, I will not listen to this."

The man pushed his face into his hands with an aggravated sound, "Why not?"

"Because it's all what you would call a 'bunch of bullshit'."

"Cas," he pleaded as he stood, "He's my baby brother, I wanted to fix him."

He said this as if it would immediately make sense. That it would right his wrong.

"To fix him?" Castiel stared at the man before him, "Dean Winchester, I came to you and specifically said that odds are this would not fix him. This could kill him. And you know what you said to me?"

He was met with silence.

"You said that we would find a way to fix this too," he breathed, "It's obvious to the world that you're arrogant and reckless. But this goes way beyond that, Dean."

"Death said the wall would hold…"

"Death doesn't know Sam. He didn't know that Sam would scratch and tear and destroy that wall because it opened to something he wanted to know."

"Then how is this my fault?" Dean came closer.

Castiel appeared taken back, "Because you are your brother's keeper. You always have been. Just as it is in Heaven, so shall it be on Earth."

"Don't give me that crap," he growled as he jabbed a finger at the angel's chest, "As if you believe any of it."

"I believe you were meant to keep your brother safe. Especially from himself," he met the hunter's eyes, "You failed."

Dean curled his hand into a fist, raising it to near Cas' face. He caught himself in time, all the while Castiel stared into his eyes amusingly.

"Do it Dean," he said lightly, "I'll even make it look like it hurt."

He uncurled his fist until his fingers lay across Cas' cheek, "I'm not going there with you again."

Cas chuckled, "Wise choice."

Dean sighed as he laid his forehead against Cas', "I think I have some anxiety to relieve."

"I thought we were to act as if this never happened."

"We are."

"Then…?"

"We're alone now."


	3. Chapter 2

_**I will say this chapter can reach sad heights but I wanted to make it a bit hopeful. I hope you enjoy!**_

**Chapter 2**: If the Lord Could Take it Away

Castiel looked away, "Dean, I'm not something to hide."

Dean laughs lowly, walking backwards until he falls onto his bed. Cas sighed gently, wanting nothing more than for this night to be over. Not only did he get chewed out by those lower than him for not being around but the man he loved only wanted him in the secrecy of the night. He honestly didn't know how it could get worse.

"I'll be keeping watch over Sam," he whispered softly, not meeting Dean's eyes, "Sleep."

"Yeah."

Cas walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. Dean fell onto his back, covering his face in his hands. The last thing he'd expected was for Cas to deny him. Really. He couldn't even figure out why he wanted the angel in the first place. Nerves? Maybe. Loneliness? Possibly. He knew he wasn't gay. Just…sidetracked. Sitting back up, he reached underneath his bed to wrap his fingers around the neck of a whiskey bottle.

It was going to be a long night.

Castiel sat next to the younger Winchester's bed, trench coat bunching around his middle. The tall man on the bed lay sleeping peacefully; face relaxed and bangs falling softly across his eyes. His white t-shirt looked big on his now non-muscular frame. The angel beside him bent his head forward, hands clasped.

"Lord, I know you asked for me not to look for you. But may I ask you to look for Sam. He is here before me, but Father, his spirit is not," he fought the human emotion climbing up his throat, constricting it, "He has fought for you. He has jumped into the fires of hell to save the beautiful world you have created. His path was cluttered with mistakes but isn't that how you made humans? Flawed? If he must pay for the sins he has committed in this horrible manner, trapped inside the mind of a child, I wish to not be a part of it. I would rather fall than be a part of the institution that inflicts this pain on one of the most beautiful humans I know."

Dean stood in the closed doorway, head leaning against the frame. He raised his shaking hand, the whiskey bottle's rim meeting his lips. The burning amber liquid slid down his throat. Tears stung his bright green eyes as he let the words of their angel sink in. On the other side of the door, Castiel felt his charge's presence. He felt the sadness seeping out of the man's every pore.

"If not for him Lord," he spoke quietly for Dean not to here, "For the servant of heaven who has protected him from birth. Don't let him suffer."

Slowly, he lent forward to lay a soft hand on Sam's face. Sliding it down, he wrapped his fingers around the covers and pulled them up to his chin. Everything he'd ever fought for, everything he'd done for heaven… It didn't matter to him anymore. To see such true servants of heaven, who chose loyalty over destiny, who have lost everything dear to them, in such pain… He began to question his own family all over again. But maybe that was just it. Maybe they were truly his family.

Nothing meant more to him than the late nights they spent crowded around Bobby's old TV. They would bring sheets from upstairs and lounge on the couches in the living room. Dean would laugh at things he couldn't understand while Sam would explain it to him quietly. Bobby would sit silently, cracking a smile every once in awhile, sipping on ice cold beer, its condensation running down his fingers. Everything about those nights; the smells, the sounds, the brushes of fingers and knees… the family he'd never known.

Now, Sam could only lie quietly and listen to books Castiel was sure he'd read fifteen times over. He couldn't explain the small references the angel didn't understand in them. His doe brown eyes could only gaze at the words Cas' mouth formed longingly. And Castiel could almost sense the longing in the man. Funny how the one thing Sam wanted most was to articulate the thoughts in his head.

He heard the door open softly, followed by a drag of feet and cloth. He didn't need to move his eyes to know that Dean had entered with a comforter and pillows in tow. The elder Winchester set his load on the floor before walking forward to plant a chaste kiss on his brother's head. Turning slowly, he simply laid a hand on Cas' shoulder. Cas let his eyes trail up to the man's before him to see affection deeply rooted in his green orbs. Dean said nothing, descending to sit on the floor.

Castiel watched as he created a makeshift bed, pillows tucked under his head and comforter pulled up to his chin. His heart seemed to feel warmer than usual, here surrounded by two of the people he cared for the most. He settled deeper into the chair, letting his eyes slip closed. Of course he wouldn't sleep, but he felt the utmost to rest his eyes. His hearing sharpened, keeping aware if any danger were close.

The morning brought bright light filtered through a discount set of blinds. Dean's eyes shifted as he was brought into the state between awake and asleep. As Castiel watched his nose twitch a bit as his mouth opened into a yawn, he couldn't help but smile. Sam sat already awake, toying with a pencil and pad of paper. He drew shallow lines across the paper, connecting them and shading in soft strokes. Cas had watched him draw for about an hour, reveling in the simple happiness the man found in this act.

"Mornin' Cas," Dean said groggily, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands.

The action was akin to that of a child's. Castiel nodded in response, picking up the steaming mug of coffee he had prepared for Dean not long ago. He reached out to Dean, letting the smell of it waft under his nose, just like he'd watch Sam do many times before.

"Ahh," the blonde laughed, "Thank you very much. When did you manage this?"

The angel tried a small smile in return, "A bit before Sam woke up, I already fed him breakfast also."

Dean gave him another thankful expression before shifting his attention to Sam. The brunette had looked up from his drawing to smile happily at his brother. Even now, after all Dean had put him through, the kid still smiled at him like he was a hero.

"Mornin' Sammy," he said gruffly, taking a long swing of the hot coffee made for him, "What are you drawing there?"

Sam's smile only grew as he turned the pad of paper for Dean to see. There were tall buildings drawn on the paper, streets filled with cars. Pain tugged at his chest as he realized just what his brother wanted.

"You want to go out, huh?"

Sam looked down a little sadly, pulling at a loose string on his comforter. Slowly, he lifted his head and spread the blinds a bit with his long fingers, gazing out longingly.

With a soft sigh, Dean met Cas' gaze, "Want to get him dressed while I shower?"

"Do you really believe this is a good idea?"

"He's been in this house for too long, Cas. He needs air."

"Then he can sit on the porch."

"What are you so afraid of?"

Cas looked away, back at the almost childlike man on the bed, "I don't want him to get scared. It's too noisy out there."

"He has to get used to it sometime. He can't live the rest of his life holed up in here."

Dean stood, stretching, "Besides, I think we need to get him some new clothes. His old ones seem a little too loose on him now. As much as I dread the prospect of it…"

"Alright," he said resignedly.

"Thank you, I'll be done in fifteen minutes."

Castiel watched him leave before looking back at Sam. The brunette was looking at him; face brighter than he'd seen in a long time. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

**_Please review. I would love to know how you felt about it._**


	4. Chapter 3

_**Thank you to those who voted. =) Here is a new chapter as I promised. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 3: **Oh, Stacey London

To say that this was like hell was an understatement. Maybe it was a little wrong for him to think but, hey he'd been there and this was still a lot worse. Sam was sitting quietly on the bench in the shoe department of JCPenny. He was compliant as an older woman took his shoe size, visibly uneasy at his silence. The tall man kept looking at Dean, eyes wide with something akin to embarrassment as the woman asked him questions that he couldn't answer.

"So, what kind of shoe are you looking for?" she asked with a small smile.

Sam's mouth flopped open as he looked back the woman, his face contorting further into despair. Dean sighed, laying a hand on his shoulder and looked at the sales clerk.

"I'm sorry ma'am but my brother is…mute," he stuttered around the word 'mute', not knowing how that affected Sam. Unfortunately, he could feel his brother's shoulder slump at the statement, trying to shake him off.

The clerk gave a look of understanding at the younger man before returning her eyes to Dean, "Well do you know what he'd prefer?"

It was Dean's turn to flop, looking at Sam as if expecting an answer this time. The younger Winchester just stared at his hands, obviously hurt at Dean's earlier statement.

"I have a solution," came Cas' gruff voice from behind Dean.

"Oh? And where have you been?" Dean practically growled.

Cas gave him a pointed look, ignoring his question, "Samuel, would you like to walk around and find a pair that you'd like?"

Sam's head popped up, a smile beaming on his face as he stood and ambled closer to the angel. Castiel put a hand on his elbow as they walked to the nearby clearance shelf. It wasn't like they had too much money to spend. Dean didn't want to run the risk of using any of his credit cards seeing as they'd be staying here for awhile.

"I'll wait here," Dean called to them, both ignoring him, "Well."

Sam ran his hands over many different shoes. Unlike before, he wasn't testing them for durability. Now he was just relishing the feel of leather, faux leather, and many unknown materials under his fingers. Castiel seemed to understand this; he too loved to know how everything in this human world felt. He figured it was Sam's way of relearning the world.

"See any you like?" he asked softly, making sure he didn't sound rushing.

Sam smiled at him with a nod, picking up a pair of brown boots not much different from his old pair. The angel smiled back, taking it from him and checking the size just as Dean taught him. He breathed a sigh of relief that it was a match.

"We have a winner, Dean," Cas called over, maybe a bit too loudly.

Luckily, his volume also attracted the same sales clerk and she hurried over to take the box to the register. Sam followed her almost excitedly, his long brown bangs covering his eyes. He swatted them away in order to stare at the new shoes they were purchasing.

…

An hour later, they were still flitting around the store. To Dean's dismay, Sam was getting cranky. He was starting to act much like a young child too close to his nap time, which as Dean checked his watch, was actually very soon. Sam didn't like anything on the rack; he frowned unhappily at everything Dean offered him, even swatting the clothing onto the floor sometimes.

"Dean, let him choose," Cas urged gently, knowing that both the brothers' nerves were running high.

"Cas, if I let him choose he'll be picking up short sleeved shirts and shorts when it's below ten degrees outside," the older Winchester snapped.

"He's not incompetent."

"He's not competent either."

"You're making no sense."

"Son of a bitch! Sam, stop that!"

Cas followed Dean's eyes to see Sam looking in someone else's cart, rummaging through their clothing choices. The angel almost felt like cradling his head exasperatedly. Instead, he did what any adult would do in his situation; berate.

"Dean, don't yell at your brother," he yanked on Dean's arm to make him face him, "Let him find what he wants, he's not a child. Isn't that what you told me the other day?"

Sam looked up at the sound of Cas' angry voice, a long sleeved henley cradled in his hands. Cas looked at it and pushed his anger down, happy that Sam had finally found something. To their luck, the owner of the cart emerged from the racks. The man looked to be in his late twenties and didn't seem at all disturbed at Sam.

"Hey," Dean said shakily, "My brother found that in your cart, can you show us where you got it?"

The man laughed a bit, "Yeah, of course. I was worried you were gonna steal it on me there for a second."

Dean laughed uneasily, sure that Sam was thinking of doing just that. Sam followed the man into the racks, Cas right behind him.

When would it be over?

…

Five hours and three stores later, Dean was lounging on Bobby's couch. The sounds of bags crinkling and tags coming off rang around him. Castiel sat on the loveseat beside Sam, removing the tags as Dean had instructed him to so that Sam could marvel at his new clothing.

Dean watched Sam's eyes light up each time Cas handed him a new piece of clothing. Shirts, jeans, even underwear. He had to admit, although the shopping wasn't exactly fun; seeing Sam that happy was worth it. The younger Winchester was running his fingers over a cotton long sleeve shirt. The soft fabric was such a vivid memory. It was something that your senses never forgot.

Even if he couldn't remember exactly how it felt to pet a dog or play in the mud, he seemed to remember this fabric. Maybe it was the long days he spent swathed in it as he lay in bed. Or how he remembers how when he was young, Dean used to lend him his white cotton tees to sleep in. These t-shirts always smelled of Dean, like when you played outside for too long in the summer. A deep musky scent that wasn't sweaty, but beautifully comforting. These are the type of things Sam likes to remember.

As Castiel ripped the final tag off, he gave the pile of garbage one glance before it disappeared. Honestly, he didn't even need to rip them off, he could have just 'mojo-ed' them away. But he didn't want to; he enjoyed the way Sam's face brightened as each piece of clothing fell into his lap. He wanted to be even more a part of that process. He raised his eyes to Dean, noticing him staring intently at his brother.

"Dean, will you order dinner?"

The hunter's eyes shifted to the angel, "Hmm? Oh, dinner. Uh, pizza?"

"I don't eat, Dean."

Dean chuckled softly, "Right. Sorry, I'm tired. Did Bobby say when he'd be back?"

The angel stood, moving towards Dean's cell phone that was perched on the TV stand, "Tomorrow."

He caught the phone as Cas tossed it to him, "Good. My funds are depleting."

Castiel watched his charge as he spoke on the phone in a well rehearsed order. He moved forward until he was seated directly beside him, noticing the way Dean's body seemed to tense. With an internal sigh, he looked at Sam who was now laying his head on the armrest of the couch. Sam's deep brown eyes stared at his brother, fingers running over a shirt clutched in his hand softly.

"Sam, are you tired?" Dean asked as he hung up the phone, standing to walk to his brother.

Cas almost whined at the loss of body heat but enjoyed the sparkle in Sam's eyes as Dean acknowledged him. Sam was sure Dean was upset with him all day. He kept yelling and giving him annoyed looks at the store. Castiel read this perfectly as he tapped into Sam's head. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy, but sometimes he couldn't resist. Sam Winchester was one of the most interesting humans.

"Come on, buddy," Dean said softly, reaching out a hand to his brother, "I'll take you upstairs and get you in bed. You skipped your nap today."

Sam took his hand happily, standing with his new shirt still in his possession. Dean looked at it and scoffed, taking it out of his hands and tossing it unto the pile of clothing. The younger Winchester glanced at it forlornly.

"We have to wash those before you can wear 'em, Sammy," he said as he noticed the look, "Here, I'll let you borrow one of mine for the night, okay?"

Sam's face seemed to perk up at this, nodding to show his understanding. Castiel watched as they disappeared up the stairs and sunk into the couch.

…

It was close to midnight when Cas found Dean still awake in his bed. The man was staring at the ceiling calmly, one hand resting on his belly with the other behind his head. The angel shucked his trench coat and got in beside him, lacing an arm around Dean's neck and tugged. Dean's face fell into the juncture between his neck and shoulder. The hunter began to shake softly, his hand rising to rest on Cas' cheek.

"It will be okay, Dean," Cas spoke calmly, "I promise we'll figure this out."

"Yeah, of course we will," Dean breathed, keeping tears at bay, "Then what? He'll never forget this Cas. I think that's the worst part of it."

The angel tilted his love's chin up, laying a soft kiss on his brow. Dean sighed at the calming effect of the simple kiss before recognizing the push of Cas' grace. He didn't resist it, knowing he'd need to get up early in the morning to make breakfast for his brother.

"Don't worry about that Dean, I'll take care of breakfast."

"Cas, I don't even know where you get breakfast," he responded sleepily, curling into the body beside him. No, he wasn't cuddling. He only cuddles when he's drunk.

"Does it matter? Sleep, Dean."

"But his bath…"

"I'll take care of that too," Cas smiled.

"Two-timing dick," Dean chuckled.

"Sleep."

And he did.

* * *

**_So, who saw last night's episode? Pretty bad ass, I say. I love having Sam back and Castiel's almost hug was just too funny. Can't wait for a new episode next week. Thank you all for reading! _**


	5. Chapter 4

*ducks rotten fruits and veggies and the odd shoe* I will not bother with excuses! Read and enjoy por favor!

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**Chapter 4: **One Step Forward

When Dean awoke, he could hear splashes followed by Sam's uneasy whines. He cursed, swinging his feet out of bed and hobbling to the bathroom. The sounds intensified as he approached the closed door, confirming his suspicions.

"Samuel, Sam, please calm down."

Dean opened the door to find a soaked Castiel kneeling beside the bathtub. Sam looked visibly angry inside of the tub, bubbles floating on top. The angel looked up as Dean entered the room, eyes wide and annoyed.

"Dean."

The older Winchester laughed, "You'll take care of it, huh?"

Cas glared at him, "Sam doesn't like me giving him a bath. Apparently, it's your job."

"Alright, alright. As sexy as you look all wet like that, please leave."

…..

Sam watched colors play off the glass sliding door in Bobby's door. The sun shone bright this morning as he sat quietly at the breakfast table. Dean stood at the stove, flipping pancakes happily as he chatted with Castiel. The buttery smell hung in the air, dancing in Sam's mouth. He could already taste the thick maple syrup that was going to coat each pancake. Cas eyed him from his place against the counter, taking in his slumped form, face content. He nudged Dean with his shoulder, nodding his head to the younger Winchester.

Dean smiled, "What are you looking at, Sammy?"

Sam's head popped up, smile immediately gracing his face, "Colors."

Cas' vision glazed over as the spatula in Dean's hand clattered to the ground. A feeling akin to absolute happiness seemed to fill the room. Dean staggered to his baby brother, dropping to his eye level and placing a hand on the side of his head.

"Say that again, Sam."

"Colors," there was no innocence in Sam's voice, no confusion as to why Dean seemed so happy.

As Dean's arms encircled Sam's neck, the younger man laughed. He smiled, patting his brother's back. Castiel's heart fell a little because he knew this was only one small breakthrough, like teaching a small child how to talk. Except for this small child knew exactly what he wanted to say at every moment.

Sam felt an extreme pleasure at making his brother happy. He really couldn't take one more day of Dean moping. Sure, he wouldn't be able to give Dean much more for awhile. But he could give him this; let him know that he wasn't entirely stupid. His hair stood up at the back of his neck as Castiel read his thoughts, sending a displeased aura at the last one.

"I'm proud of you Sam," Cas said softly, "But these…pancakes are going to burn."

Dean seemed to hop up quickly, hurrying to the stove to flip them. Cas could practically smell the salt of Dean's tears. Somehow, the elder Winchester knew this, sending him a warning glance.

"Who's burning shit in my house?" Bobby called gruffly from the living room.

Sam laughed heartily, "Dean!"

Said man's head tilted forward, sending a silent prayer to God, wherever he was. Bobby seemed to appear in the kitchen in a split second, jaw hanging. He looked between Cas' almost smile and Sam's wide grin.

"Did I hear what I think I just heard, boy?"

Sam nodded, not quite getting his mouth to form around a 'yes sir'. He frowned a bit at this.

"Don't overdo it, son. This is more than enough."

Dean coughed, "How was the hunt?"

Bobby seemed to snap out of his revere, "Good. No trouble at all."

"I see you managed not to break a hip."

"Kiss my ass. Where the hell is the bacon, idjit?"

…..

Cas sat on the bed beside Sam as they looked over a book. He pointed to words, sounding them out for the other man. Sam nodded at each, knowing that even though he knew what the words were, he kind of forgot how to pronounce them. He let his lips curl over each syllable, making no noise.

"It's getting late," Dean said from the hallway.

"Actually," Cas replied, not looking up, "Sam was expressing to me earlier that he'd like to watch some TV."

"I could hook up this one right here," he said gruffly, walking in and crouching near the age old mechanism.

"Don't bother," murmured the angel, reaching over and touching his fingers to the screen.

The TV flickered to life, "Well, if we don't have our own little angel satellite."

Cas shot him a little glare, going to sit in the chair beside Sam's bed. Dean on the other hand went to Sam's bedside and tapped repeatedly at his side, urging him to make room. The taller Winchester happily obliged, smiling up at his big brother. Dean's scent came to cling at Sam's nose, making him even happier. Something about gun oil and old leather made him feel at home.

"Hey, Cas. Think you can get me free porn?" Dean smiled cheekily with a wink.

Castiel smirked briefly, "I'm sure I could."

The look he shot Dean made him know that said porn wouldn't be on the television.


	6. Chapter 5

**I am soooooo sorry for how horrible I am about updating. No excuses. I hope you enjoy this short yet hopefully sweet update. More to come.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**: Speak a little louder, dear

He was about two steps into the bathroom when he heard the door slam shut behind him. As he turned, his mouth was caught by chapped lips, hands clinging onto his shirt.

"Cas?" he mumbled, pulling away briefly to be met by bright blue eyes, obviously intent on something.

And Dean had a good idea about what that something was.

The TV marathon had ended after Sam passed out, lasting about three hours. Night had fallen and the house was quiet, the sounds of crickets permeating the walls. Dean had slipped out of Sam's bed, easing the younger man's body into a lying position. Cas on the other hand had had to leave about five minutes into their marathon, having been called to his angel duties. And Dean would be damned before he'd admit that it made him jealous how quickly Cas had flown away. Well maybe.

"Oh now you want to be here," he pulls away completely, approaching the sink and turning on the tap.

Cas rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall, not needing clarification on why Dean was acting this way. It was written all over his face, not to mention his mind which Cas so wasn't peeking into. Maybe.

"Dean…"

Said human interrupted, "Tell me, did you have fun with your angel buddies? You know the ones that were trying to kill you all last year. Did you have tea with Raphael or did he just teabag you?"

He turned to face the angel, arms crossed and facial expression indignant. A smirk formed on his lips at the sight of Cas fighting back his anger.

"Oh, teabag wasn't it? Was it at least enjoyable? I mean-"

Cas was on him in a matter of seconds, hands keeping Dean's face still as he kissed him thoroughly. One hand slid from its place, slipping down Dean's neck and to his shoulder, grasping its mark and squeezing. Dean couldn't help the shocks of pleasure that ran through him, singing every nerve and whiting out his vision. The angel growled at this, biting his bottom lip and sucking it till it was red and puffy.

Cas pulled his mouth away, just barely, panting, "Your jealousy knows no bounds, does it Dean Winchester?"

Dean couldn't help the cocky grin on his face, "You're the one getting off on it."

The angel's answering grin left Dean confused until he felt Cas' other hand, the one not on the mark, cup his erection through his jeans, "I'm not the only one."

Abruptly, Cas backed away, turning and heading to the door. Dean tried to catch his breath, a question forming on his lips. Cas read it, back turned to Dean.

"Its teatime," he turned his head slightly, hand on the doorknob, "If…if I'm not back in a day…"

Worry filled Dean as Cas' words were processed, "Cas, what are you-"

The sound of wings fluttered, the angel obviously deciding that a quick getaway was smarter.

"Son of a bitch," he turned back to the sink, turning off the tap.

Dean spent the day trying to think of anything but Cas. He played about thirty or so rounds of Go Fish with Sam, scoured the paper and online news for any signs of a hunt, even attempted to read a book from Sam's nightstand. Still, nothing could calm the worry he had for the trenchcoated angel. Sam had taken notice to the angel's absence, more than once gesturing towards the pictures of angels depicted in one of Bobby's books. His lips kept making a motion similar to a dog hacking up vomit, obviously trying to form the hard 'c' sound of Cas' name.

Bobby, on the other hand, seemed to know something the rest of them didn't. That didn't sit too well with Dean, who when he wasn't trying to keep busy, was pestering the old man. Like now, a little shy of twenty minutes to midnight, he sat at the table while Bobby put on a fresh pot of coffee.

"Bobby, really," he sighed angrily, "Why the hell keep it from me? What's the point?"

"I have no idea what you're yammering about, boy," came the gruff reply along with an annoyed look, "It's late, get some sleep."

"I'm not sleeping until I know where the hell Cas is."

"And I know where he is!"

Dean stood abruptly, the sound of the chair scraping across the floor startling Sam who sat beside him, "Yes, you do know. I know when you're lying Bobby and this makes no sense. It's not like I can do anything to help him."

"Then what is the point in you knowing?" Bobby took a deep breath to calm himself, fixing Dean with a patient yet warning look, "It'll only worry you more. Get Sam to bed, you're making him anxious."

Sam, although he knew Bobby was right, couldn't help but be offended. He'd thought once he'd proven he wasn't completely lame, they'd stop talking about him like he wasn't there. He glared half heartedly at his surrogate father before turning his scathing gaze to the far wall.

"Bobby, I..." Dean breathed, "I need to know, okay?"

The man's answering gaze was sympathetic, "I promised him, Dean."

Dean threw his hands up, fury reignited, "This whole thing-!"

His tirade was interrupted as a crashing sound from the study echoed throughout the house. All three men met each other's startled gazes before running from the room. As they reached the doorway, the smell of ozone and blood hit them, leaving Sam dry heaving and leaning against the wall. Dean's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Black feathers littered the study floor, some appearing so inky that Dean was sure they were coated in blood. His eyes followed the path of them until he found the source; a quivering naked form in the center on the room.

"Cas."


End file.
